Lost Records All About Orange Juice!!!!

October 28, 2008 by John Foster  Send to a Friend

Orange Juice. Orange Juice. Orange Juice. Orange Juice.

With the news leaking out that Scotland’s favorite sons are about to triumphantly reunite for one night, (when they are honored by therapy lovers (and not the band) Nordoff-Robbins) there seemed only one thing to do. Squeeze my ass into some tight tight pants and start growing my bouffant soul boy hairdo back? Big negative on the possibilities for either - harumph! Spend all my days reading touchy feely tales about frontman Edwyn Collins return from the brink of death (and a certain creative crypt, robbed of his ability to walk, read or write due to a stroke) by virtue of therapy that included drawing a gallery full of birds? The story in The Guardian is a weeper but I have bigger fish to fry (or birds to draw, as it were.) Lets talk about why we care (and we do) so very much about Mr. Collins in the first place. Lets celebrate the records of Orange Juice.

In keeping with the focus of this column you can e-zoom over to e-music and check out the e-excellent compilation of recordings that is “The Glasgow School” but as this is a one-time affair I am going to treat it with the attention it deserves and cover a wider berth. Track down the best of if you can, as it has a wonderful tracklist and a ridiculously twee cover paining of a half-man half-dolphin that is so bad it’s good.

Edwyn Collins and his bandmates (Collins was the only constant in the end, but huge contributions were made along the way by James Kirk and Malcolm Ross on guitar at various points, David McClymont on bass and Steven Daly and Zeke Manyika on drums) helped establish the iconic Postcard Records, which would serve as a beacon of Scottish talent. The manner in which they style-hopped over the years always came back to the constant for me: jittering percussion and bass complimented by angular guitar with a love for treble and Collins over the top lyricism and insanely deep voice for the type of pop music he so clearly aspired to. If you were to experience it for the first time today you would likely say that Edwyn was ripping off Jens Lekman or Morrisey but then a cranky old post punker would pull you by the hoodie and tell ya to check the dates on those singles mister. Collins was the one to bring an urge to twitch and dance and croon, no matter how accomplished you were at it, back to the UK indie charts. So what if you love disco and funk but still want to sing about awkwardly attempting to interact with the girls in your village? Go for it. Button that cardigan and go for it!

Setting their tiny little kitten covered flag in the ground with the skittering “Falling and Laughing,” there was no looking back. Careening out of control with stomping percussion and razor thin guitar strums as Collins croons in that congested croak of a voice that sounded like roses landing at my feet. It’s magic. You can hear a young David Gedge wearing out “Blue Boy” on his record player, as The Wedding Present would soon cover another Orange Juice gem in “Felicity,” adding the gruff where the awkwardness had been before. “Simply Thrilled Honey” is musically very similar to early New Order (and of the same time period) yet Collins lyrics and singing make it so that it can only be his. You can almost see the pouf of hair swaying and the knees knocking together if you close your eyes.

If “Consolation Song” is the sound of a 1,000 mop-haired bands trying to reach the charts, then “Rip It Up” is the sound of the band actually making it for the first and only time.

Zeke’s inclusion opened up the possibilities in the sound (although I loved and instantly miss Daly’s ramshackle way of hitting the skins) and later songs would reflect that. “Texas Fever” in particular itching Collin’s desire to extend his romanticism in obvious pathways. It got a little confusing as members fled with Edwyn seemingly happy to see then go, leaving only Collins and Manyika. Yet some of my favorites lie here in the “lost” pile, as fans are more leery of the last album, “The Orange Juice.” But “What Presence?!” and “Salmon Fishing in New York” and my beloved call it like you see it anthem “I Guess I’m Just a Little Too Sensitive” close out their discography in gloriously disheveled and unloved fashion.

As is always the case for a band that has little in the way of sonic fore bearers, commercial success would elude them for the most part. Critics were all too happy to point to Collins all or nothing vocal stylings as the reason - as few could argue with the quality of the songwriting. But Edwyn would have the last laugh with the global hit “A Girl Like You” giving his voice the perfect compliment in swanky settings and frisky distorted guitars. He would also produce a slew of essential Irish records for the Setanta label while continuing a thorny solo career and being name-checked by Franz Ferdinand among others: fabulous all the while.

It is far from funny to see Collins career take so many twists and turns and then nearly extinguish. But it is telling that no matter what seems to happen to the man they can’t keep him away from his songs. Romantic? Maybe. Stubborn as ever? Definitely.

Report to the Glasgow School

RIYL: Orange Juice - get with it fool!

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